Stay as Sweet as You Are

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Did yer manage to get her home all right?’ Titch asked. ‘I would have given yer a hand but thought I’d better not interfere.’

  ‘I had to half carry her up the stairs, and she was a dead weight. Then I took her coat off and lifted her onto the bed. I left her there and went for Lucy. And when she was settled in bed, I looked in on the wife. She was just as I’d left her, out like a light and snoring her head off.’

  ‘She certainly likes her drink,’ George said. ‘She must have gone through half a bottle of gin in that short time.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s my fault,’ Titch said. ‘I should have refused to give her so much.’

  ‘Don’t blame yerself,’ Bob told him. ‘Ruby sober is no nicer than Ruby drunk. She’s got a chip on her shoulder as big as a ruddy tree, and nothing yer do or say will please her. I should know, I’ve tried everything under the sun but it doesn’t have the slightest effect.’

  ‘Forget about it for now,’ Irene said, ‘and sit down and relax. Get a glass in yer hand and drown yer sorrows.’

  Titch raised his brows. ‘How about a good stiff whisky, pal?’

  ‘Just the job, mate.’ Bob sat down and stretched his legs. He was physically and mentally exhausted. ‘Then yer can tell me what yer were laughing about when I came in. I could do with cheering up.’

  ‘Before that, Bob, will yer tell us how the kids got on in Irene’s?’ Aggie leaned forward in expectation. ‘Did Lucy enjoy herself?’

  The mention of his daughter’s name brought a genuine smile to Bob’s face. ‘Enjoy herself! She was full of it – they all were. I couldn’t get a word in edgeways with them all talking at once, saying they’d had the time of their lives. I felt like an ogre breaking the party up. Lucy said it was the best birthday she’d ever had, and young Jack said he’d never forget the day he wore his first pair of long kecks.’ Bob held the glass to his lips and closed his eyes as the liquid warmed and soothed him. ‘I’ll tell yer what – that Steve’s a good ’un. He said he’d stay and help the lads clear up so their mother didn’t have to come back to dirty dishes and crumbs all over the floor. Yer’d not get many boys his age being so thoughtful.’

  Aggie sat back feeling contented. As long as the children enjoyed themselves, that was the main thing. At least Ruby hadn’t been able to spoil their party. ‘They’re all good kids. I don’t know Lucy’s friend, Rhoda, as well as I know the others, but she seems a nice enough girl.’

  Titch chuckled. ‘She’s an exceptional girl is Rhoda, with a very unusual sense of humour. Which brings me to what we were laughing at when yer came in, Bob.’ Leaning back against the sideboard with a glass in his hand and a twinkle in his eye, he started with Jack telling his brother he talked like a parrot that had lived with Mrs Gibson for years. And he ended with Rhoda’s serious reaction to a story that had been made up for a laugh.

  If Titch had told the tale once again in the hope of cheering his neighbour up, then he’d been very successful. For Bob, with a warm glow inside him, and feeling relaxed, roared with laughter as he pictured the scene in his mind. ‘I wish I’d been here to see it. I bet our Lucy saw the funny side.’ He shook his head. ‘Rhoda didn’t really believe Mrs Gibson kept yer talking for ten days, did she? No, she couldn’t have. She was having yer on.’

  ‘If I never move from this spot, she fell for it, hook, line and sinker.’ Titch looked to his mother for confirmation. ‘Isn’t that the truth, Ma?’

  Aggie chuckled. ‘It is, son. And I bet she’ll lie in bed tonight wondering how yer could stand on yer feet for ten days without going to the lavvy.’

  ‘She either believed it, or is a ruddy good actress,’ Irene said. ‘But either way she’s done us a favour. Especially you, Bob. Yer look heaps better than yer did half an hour ago.’

  ‘That’s the whisky, sweetheart,’ George said. ‘It’s amazing what a drop of the hard stuff will do.’

  ‘No, George, it’s not the whisky,’ Bob said. ‘It’s being with me friends. I was all wound up before, me nerves shattered. But now I feel nice and relaxed. In fact, I feel so full of goodwill to all men, I wouldn’t mind if Mrs Gibson walked through that door right now and talked the head off me all through the night.’

  George let out a loud guffaw. ‘I told yer it was amazing what a drop of the hard stuff will do. But even I didn’t think it was powerful enough for anyone to brave Mrs Gibson’s company for a whole night. Give him another one, Titch.’

  ‘All in good time, mate,’ Titch said. ‘The last thing I want is for him to get legless and me have to carry him up the stairs and throw him down next to Ruby.’

  Mellowed by the drink and good company, Bob chuckled. ‘Yer need have no fears on that score, ’cos I’m kipping down on the couch. I’m at ease with meself now, as happy as a pig in you-know-what. And I’m not about to let the sight and sound of me drunken wife spoil things for me. Time enough tomorrow for rows and recriminations.’

  ‘Take the advice of an old woman, Bob,’ Aggie said, ‘and forget about it. It’s over and done with now and yer can’t change things. What’s the good of getting all het-up when nothing will come of it? ’Cos I’ll tell yer now, lad, no matter how hard yer shout, yer’ll never change Ruby.’

  ‘Aggie’s right, Bob, yer’d get yerself all worked up for nothing,’ Irene said. ‘Put it out of yer head and pretend it never happened.’

  Bob was thoughtful as he swirled the whisky around in his glass. And when he looked up, he nodded. ‘The ladies are right, as usual. I won’t forget about it, I can’t. But kicking up a stink won’t get me anywhere, so to all intents and purposes, it never happened.’

  ‘It’s very sensible of yer to take me ma’s advice when she becomes an old woman,’ Titch said, trying to control his laughter. ‘I took her advice, that’s why I never married. She told me there wasn’t a girl in the world good enough for her son, so I never bothered looking.’

  Aggie gaped. ‘That is a bleedin’ lie, Titch McBride. I never said no such thing.’

  ‘Yes, yer did. I was about twenty-two at the time.’

  ‘Yer must have been hearing things, ’cos if I never move from this chair I never said no such thing.’

  Titch slapped a hand on his forehead. ‘Well, blow me down! Here I am, forty years of age and unmarried. All because I’ve gone through life thinking there wasn’t a girl good enough for me. And now I find out I must have dreamt yer said it.’

  Irene looked at the smiling faces and thought, this was more like it. Mother and son were just getting into their stride and there was a lot of laughter on the way. It was a bit late for it, thanks to Ruby, but better late than never. The disastrous start to the evening had been pushed to the back of their minds and merriment was taking its place. Which was as it should be when friends got together.

  Aggie stood on the small landing and watched her son heaving the wooden ladder up the stairs. ‘I dunno,’ Titch grumbled, ‘fancy getting me up at this ungodly hour on a Sunday morning.’

  ‘Ah, yer poor thing. The bleedin’ streets were aired off hours ago.’

  Titch stood the ladder against the wall. ‘Where d’yer want me to put it? And I don’t want a rude answer, ’cos it wouldn’t fit, anyway.’

  Aggie chuckled. ‘Ye’re wide enough awake to give me yer old buck.’ She nodded her head towards the front bedroom. ‘By me wardrobe.’

  Titch opened the ladder in front of the large wardrobe. ‘Now what?’

  ‘I want yer to get up there and pass some of the parcels down to me. I want to see what’s in them.’

  ‘Ah, ay, Ma! Did yer get me out of bed just so yer could do some spring-cleaning?’

  ‘No, I didn’t, so stop yer moaning. I think there’s some things up there that would brighten Olive’s house up. They’re not doing me any good sitting up there, so she may as well have the use of them. So get cracking, son, ’cos I’ve got a dinner to get ready.’

  Titch climbed on to the third rung. ‘Is there anything in particular ye’re looking for?’
/>
  ‘I don’t know until I see it, do I? Just give me the first thing yer put yer hand on.’ Aggie reached up to take the small, newspaper-wrapped parcel. While her son looked on, she opened it up to find a pretty, blue glass vase. ‘That’s nice, she’ll like that. Another one now, son.’

  The next parcel revealed a statue of a Japanese lady in a bright kimono with a fan hiding the bottom half of her face. Then came another statue. This time it was an old man with a walking stick, bent over with the weight of the pack on his back. The fourth parcel contained a framed picture, and Aggie studied it with a smile on her face. It was a pretty scene, with children playing in a field of buttercups and daisies. ‘That’s enough for now, son, otherwise Olive will send yer packing with them.’

  Titch nearly fell off the ladder. ‘Send me packing! I’m not taking them up to her, yer can do it yerself.’

  Aggie looked all innocent. ‘I’d be happy to do that, son, if you’ll see to the dinner. I’ll put the meat in the oven for yer, so all yer’d have to do is peel the carrots and turnip, and the spuds. Then when the meat’s nearly done, yer can put the potatoes around it to roast. Oh, and yer’d have to make the gravy, as well.’

  ‘Ye’re a crafty so-and-so, Ma. Why can’t yer put the meat in the oven now? Then yer’d have time to go to Olive’s and be back in time to see to the rest of the meal.’

  ‘That sounds all very well, son, but yer see, I can’t knock a nail in the wall. If you go, yer can take a hammer and a nail with yer and put the picture up for her.’

  Titch shook his head. ‘Yer’ve got it all figured out, haven’t yer, Ma? When did yer plan this little manoeuvre?’

  ‘In bed last night. Yer can blame Ruby for it if yer must blame someone. I couldn’t sleep thinking about the brazen hussy, so to take me mind off her, I got thinking of Olive. And I came up with this idea. Mind you, it never entered me head that you’d be so bleedin’ contrary.’

  ‘I’m not being contrary, Ma, it’s just that yer don’t tell a person what’s on yer mind. And when they refuse, yer blackmail them. Yer know darn well I’d rather go to Olive’s for half an hour than eat a dinner I’d made meself.’ Titch put his arms around the ladder and lifted it from the floor. ‘Are yer sure that’s all, before I lug this thing downstairs?’

  ‘Yes, light of my life, that’s all. Except I’ve just remembered I told Olive all this stuff was in the loft, so don’t you go making a liar out of me.’

  The ladder was lowered to the floor as Titch shook with laughter. ‘But yer are a liar, Ma!’

  ‘Yes, I know that. And you know it, too. But yer’ve no need to let the whole bleedin’ street know.’ Aggie spread her hands out. ‘It’s not meself I’m thinking of, it’s you. How would yer like to be walking down the street and hear a woman saying to her neighbour, “His mother’s not half a liar. Yer can’t believe a word what comes out of her mouth.”’

  ‘Ma, I’ll do a deal with yer. I’ll tell lies for yer, if you make a rice pudding for after our dinner. How does that sound?’

  ‘Yer drive a hard bargain, son. But, yeah, it’s a deal.’

  Titch was on the landing preparing to lift the ladder down the top stair. Then over the rustling of the paper as the parcels were rewrapped, he heard his mother talking to herself. ‘If he had eyes in his bleedin’ head he’d have seen the rice in steep on the draining board. Still, he wanted a deal and he got one.’

  ‘I heard that, Ma.’

  ‘Oh, did yer now! Well, now yer know it’s true what they say about listeners never hearing good about themselves. It’s coming to something when an old woman can’t have a decent conversation with herself without some nosy bugger butting in.’

  ‘Well, this nosy bugger is on his way downstairs now to make a cup of tea for an old woman. She doesn’t deserve it, like, ’cos she tells lies and all sorts of things. But I’ll be lenient and make allowances for her age.’

  ‘Sod off, Titch McBride.’

  Steve opened the door and his face stretched in a smile. ‘Hello, Mr Titch, it’s nice to see yer. Come on in.’

  ‘Is yer mam respectable?’

  ‘Keep yer voice down, Titch McBride,’ Olive called. ‘Yer’ll have the neighbours thinking there’s times when I’m not respectable.’

  ‘Only the bad-minded ones, Olive, only the bad-minded ones.’

  Steve put a hand on his arm. ‘I want to thank yer for yesterday, Mr Titch, we all had a smashing time. And me new clothes went down a treat.’

  ‘Think nothing of it, lad, it was my pleasure.’

  Olive eyed the bag with suspicion. ‘What’s Aggie sent yer down with now?’

  ‘Don’t you start on me, Olive, ’cos me ma’s had me up since the crack of dawn. The last Sunday of me leave and she drags me out of bed at ten o’clock.’

  ‘And that’s the crack of dawn, is it?’

  ‘It is when yer’ve had a few drinks the night before.’ Titch put the bag on the table. ‘Me ma said yer know about these. They’re things she’s had for years and has no use for.’

  ‘Don’t tell me she’s had yer in the loft this morning?’

  ‘I haven’t been in the loft, Olive.’ Titch thought half a lie wasn’t so bad. ‘I just stood on the ladder and pulled out the first things that came to hand.’

  ‘Can I have a look, Mam?’ Steve’s hand was already on the bag. ‘We’re not half getting a lot of surprises these days. Everyone’s been very kind.’

  ‘We shouldn’t really take them.’ But Olive’s words were half-hearted. She was dying to see what Aggie had sent. ‘I feel as though I’m scrounging.’

  ‘Scrounging! Olive, me ma’s got enough stuff at home to open a shop. Yer’d be doing her a favour by taking them off her hands.’

  ‘I’ll believe yer, Titch, because I want to.’ Olive smiled into the weatherbeaten face. ‘I feel like a little girl when she finds out Father Christmas has been.’

  That was good enough for Steve, and his hand went into the bag. And as he and his mam showed their pleasure as each piece of paper was opened, Titch stood by and watched in silence. How little it took to make these two happy.

  ‘There’s a hammer in the bottom of the bag, Mr Titch.’ Steve looked puzzled. ‘Fancy carrying that around with yer, ’cos it’s heavy.’

  ‘I’ve got a nail in me pocket to go with it, lad. And strict instructions from me ma that I wasn’t to go home until that picture was on yer wall. She said if I didn’t do it, she’d come down and have a go herself. I didn’t fancy letting her do that because I think she’d knock yer wall down in the process.’

  Olive stood with a finger in her mouth, looking first at the sideboard and then the mantelpiece. ‘I think the vase in the middle of the sideboard, and an ornament each end. What do you think, Titch?’

  ‘Move them around until yer get them where yer think they look best. And while ye’re doing that, I’ll put the picture up. Which wall would yer like it on?’

  There was no hesitation. ‘On that wall, so everyone can see it when they walk in.’

  Steve watched the pleasure on his mother’s face and thought of how much they owed to the McBrides. Yesterday he’d felt equal to the other children because he was dressed as well as any of them. And he’d never forget the two people who’d made that possible.

  Olive stood behind the table and looked across at the sideboard. Only a couple of weeks ago it had been falling to pieces, only fit for the scrapheap. Now, with the lovely runner, the ornaments and vase, it looked a treat. And the picture hanging over it was just the right finishing touch. The trouble was, the wallpaper didn’t do them justice. Dark with age, and torn in so many places, it took the shine off the nice things. She didn’t say anything, though, because it might sound as if she was dropping hints. ‘Thank yer mam for me and tell her I’m thrilled to bits.’ She pointed to a chair. ‘Yer can sit down, yer know, we don’t charge. Not even for the spring that’ll stick in yer bottom and leave a mark.’

  When Titch sat down he felt the truth of h
er words and grinned. ‘No one will see it. I’ve been changing me own nappies for nearly forty years now.’

  Steve was in his element having a man to talk to. ‘How did yer party go, Mr Titch? I bet it wasn’t as good as ours.’

  ‘Well, the first couple of hours were interesting, and quite lively at times. But they were nothing to write home about. It was nearly ten o’clock when it really got going, after we were all well-oiled.’ He lifted a finger and corrected himself. ‘I should say when the men were well-oiled. Irene and me ma don’t need drink to make a party go, and they had us in stitches.’

  ‘How was Ruby?’ Olive asked. ‘Did she enjoy herself?’

  ‘Least said, soonest mended, Olive.’

  ‘Oh.’ She had gathered from snippets of conversation with Aggie and Irene that Bob’s wife wasn’t very popular. Whenever she mentioned her name they changed the subject. So she now followed their example. ‘When do yer sail, Titch?’

  ‘I’m reporting on Tuesday, so we’ll probably sail the day after. I was told it would only be a short trip, but yer can’t rely on them. I didn’t expect to be away four months on the last one. But when I get home, I’ll be taking the Pollard boys and Lucy to the flicks one night. And yer’d be very welcome to join us, Steve, if yer want to.’

  Steve was agog. If someone had given him a pound note he couldn’t have looked any happier. ‘Ooh, yeah! That would be the gear, Mr Titch, thanks very much.’

  ‘Just look at the face on him,’ Olive said, feeling so pleased for her son. ‘That’s all I’ll be able to get out of him now, so yer’d better not be away for four months, Titch McBride, or he’ll drive me round the bend.’

  ‘I was going to suggest that yer come with us. That’s if ye’re feeling better, like. It would do yer good to get out.’

  ‘Oh, please, Mam,’ Steve said. ‘That would be brilliant.’

  Olive was flabbergasted. Her hand to her throat, she croaked, ‘I couldn’t go with yer, Titch, I haven’t been over the door for nearly two years. Anyway, what would the neighbours say? They’d have a field day!’